You know, my first experience with politics, as my high school class secretary, was a shining moment in my high school career. I used to look back on it fondly. We were so young, but so good at what we were doing, preparing for a world outside our parents’ houses!
Looking back, I probably should have realized that the petty high school drama doesn’t just go away when you turn eighteen. At least, not for everyone.
That’s how I ended up in the breakroom of my own campaign office, helping to mop up the remains of a perfectly good lunch and typing this up on my phone when no one is looking. I mean, I can’t do this without a little venting, or else I’ll explode.
What Happened with Andy and Donna?
When I lived in New York, I spent a lot of time working in and around law firms. Just being around firms like Greenstein & Milbauer, LLP meant I met a lot of people who were as highly-motivated and mature as I was, even fresh out of college.
I was a little off on that one.
Oh sure, I made friends, started my own firm before going into politics, and made connections with a lot of people. But some of those people didn’t exactly grow up over the years.
For example, Andy was truly a class clown, even outside the classroom. He’s what we call an “attention-seeker,” you see. But that doesn’t mean he’s not good at his job. He’s helped me out in a pinch with my speeches, and he’s a social media wiz. Of course, he also spends a lot of times pushing the boundaries in the office.
Now, I had never taken Donna as one to give in to him acting foolish. She’s pretty no-nonsense, as serious about finances, as she is about everything else. So when she finally lost her cool at his pranks, we were all a little shocked.
Even I’d have to admit, it was kind of funny. We knew from Andy’s grin that he had set something up for her—he’d realized he could still get a reaction from her, so of course she was his current target.
For my part, I did try to stop the inevitable, but it was too late. By the time Donna reached the breakroom to get her first cup of coffee, I was still several steps behind Andy. I was just close enough to watch him take a cup of water to the face.
It was early enough in the morning that Donna hadn’t yet settled down at her desk, which gave him time to strike. Unfortunately, the other children in the office didn’t stop him, and they didn’t tell me what he was planning.
I found out that he’d taken everything from her desk and put it in the vending machine slots. Of course, I found out just about the same time as Donna grabbed the first bowl of someone’s lunch and took aim. It turned out she had an impressive throwing arm, at least.
Now, we’re cleaning the mess up after sending Donna home for the day—she was glad for it, of course—and giving a spaghetti-covered Andy a long lecture about professionalism, especially as we work to make bigger policy changes. I mean, really, we’re here to make progress, not pranks. Ridiculous, right?
Honestly, I bet most of our readers here wouldn’t believe the lack of professional attitudes that go on in places like this. At least this morning’s misadventure is more exciting than divorces and deeper interpersonal drama.